


whenever you need

by ymorton



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:53:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ymorton/pseuds/ymorton
Summary: some nasty ben/meri/harrywritten in july 2015





	1. palm springs

Harry shows up on Ben’s second day in Palm Springs, knocks on the front door with a leather Hermès weekender over one shoulder and a wide white smile. There’s a Range Rover parked in the driveway, behind Ben’s Audi.  

“Hiiii, Mr. Winston.”

“Mr. Styles,” Ben says, huffing a laugh, letting Harry inside. He’d invited Harry up on a whim, not thinking Harry’d be able to make the trip between tour dates, but here he is. “You made it.”

“Couldn’t pass it up, could I? Got a few days off. Ooh, nice and cool in here.”

“Innit? Meri’s out by the pool, go say hello. I’m making drinks.”

Harry wrinkles his nose. “It’s four PM.”

“I’m on holiday, H. You saying you don’t want one?”

“Well, no, I’m not saying that,” Harry says, dawdling by the makeshift bar Ben’s set up. He grabs an orange slice.

“Ey, hands off. I’m working here.”

Harry just grins, places a soft kiss on Ben’s cheek, low, nearly the side of his mouth. He ducks out of the room, sucking obnoxiously on the orange slice, dropping his bag on the floor with a thump.

Ben looks down at his cutting board, tries not to smile. Harry’s in that kind of mood, then. Well. Ben doesn’t mind that kind of mood, not at all.

–

By seven they’re all tipsy, and the sun’s gone behind the mountains, leaving it shady but still hot, a dull deadly kind of heat, the kind that makes them sleepy and loose-limbed. Ben’s wrangling with the rental house grill, a few salmon steaks waiting on a platter next to him, when Harry breezes past him, puts a hand on Ben’s bare back.

“Can I help?”

“Make a salad?”

Harry nods, pads inside, feet making wet sounds on the tile. He’s only in a pair of swim shorts, bright yellow, setting off his tan.

Ben’s got the salmon going when Meredith comes out from the shower, hair wet down her back, in a sheer white dress that clings to her damp frame. Ben wolf-whistles, because he gets to be an idiot sometimes. She married him, she’s got to deal with it.

She rolls her eyes. Kisses his cheek, and then his mouth. She tastes of tequila and lime.

“So,” she says against his ear, while Ben pokes at the steaks. “Harry’s being very… Harry.”

Ben laughs. “Wasn’t sure if he’d come.”

Meredith shrugs, runs her hand over Ben’s back, the back of his neck. “Glad he did.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Meredith’s quiet for a moment, rubbing his back.

“It’s been a while since we, like,” Ben says, into the silence. “Y'know.”

“It has.”

Ben stares down at the salmon, his face hot. Just from the grill, of course. “If you’d be up for it, well.”

Meredith’s quiet again.

“Yeah,” she says eventually, leaning in to kiss his mouth. She pulls away, licking her lips. Grins suddenly. “Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Ben repeats, and he can’t be bothered that the salmon might burn, he has to kiss her again. He pulls her in by the small of her back, slides his hand down to cup her arse through gauzy cotton, and she sighs against his mouth.

He hears the porch door sliding open, pulls away to see Harry carrying a bowl of greens. He’s pink-cheeked, a little stumbly, drunk. He’s slung on a t-shirt, and it hangs loose and open around his collarbone, catches on his taut nipples.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he says, mouth curving up, amused. “But I think the meat might be burning.”

Ben blinks at him, and then turns to the grill. “Shit.”

Meredith laughs, and Ben works on salvaging their dinner. Teases, the both of them.

–

Ben goes into the kitchen to make another round of drinks after dinner. He’s quite pissed himself by now, but he focuses hard on not slicing his thumb off as he cuts limes, squeezes juice into three glasses. He can hold his drink, anyway, he’s not a kid.

Harry, on the other hand.

Ben hears a splash, looks out the window to see Meredith laughing and Harry nowhere to be found. Or- no. There he is, a slice of tan skin cutting through the water. His clothes are in a heap on the side of the pool. Predictable.

Harry surfaces, laughing, shaking his hair out of his face.

“Don’t drown!” Ben calls. “Idiot!”

Harry just waves, standing up in the shallow water. He’s naked, body gleaming in the fading light. He holds his arms out to the sky like he’s praying, shuts his eyes, and it’s hard to not look at him.

Ben manages it, forces himself to finish their drinks.

When he comes out again Harry’s still swimming. He pokes his head out of the water.

“Come innn,” he calls, grinning, teeth flashing. “It’s brilliant.”

Ben shakes his head with a snort. “Come have your drink, H. You begged for it.”

Harry swims up to the side, slings his arms onto the ground. He’s panting like a puppy, looking happy, relaxed. Ben likes to see him that way. Especially with what’s been happening lately, all the headlines.

“Bring it to me?” Harry says sweetly.

Ben rolls his eyes, but he hands the drink over, and Harry takes a deep gulp, throat working.

“S'good,” he says after he swallows, setting the drink back down. “Now swimming.”

He splashes back into the water, and Ben settles back into his chair, slides Meri’s drink across the table to her. She smiles.

—

They’re halfway through a conversation about their next holiday when Harry climbs out of the pool. Ben looks over at him, laughs when Harry shakes his hair out like Colin does after a bath.

“Welcome back, Styles. Have a nice swim?”

Harry dimples at both of them. "You talking about Israel?”

“Yeah,” Ben says, watching him rub a hand over his chest, shivering against the night air. “Next spring, we’re thinking. Gonna get flights next week.”

“Sick,” Harry murmurs, reaching down to grab his drink off the ground. His arse flashes, pale white against the golden tan of his legs and back. He’s been out in the sun, then. Ben stares a bit, hears Meri cough and looks over.

She raises an eyebrow.

Ben nods.

“Haz,” he says, watching Harry grab for a towel.

Harry looks over at them. “Mmhm?”

Ben looks at him.

It only takes Harry a moment to get it. That’s a nice thing about him, how quick he is on the uptake. There are lots of nice things about him.

He lets the towel drop. He’s still damp, nipples hard in the night air, his dick hanging thick and heavy between his legs.

Not that his dick matters. At least not at first.

Harry’s eyes slide from Ben to Meri, and when Ben looks over Meri is sitting low in her chair, legs spreading. Ben’s mouth goes dry.

“Harry,” he says, swallowing. “Why don’t you go over there, help her out?”

Harry rubs a hand over his mouth. His hair is dripping, and his dick’s starting to perk up.

“Harry,” Meredith says, voice low and soft the way it gets before she holds Ben down by the wrists and rides him. “C'mere, darling.”

Harry comes, nearly stumbling over a discarded flip-flop.

“Put down a towel for his knees,” Ben says, handing one over, damp from before. “There’s a good lad.”

He watches as Harry drops his head, kisses up the inside of his wife’s thigh, then over Meri’s knickers, his tongue out, pink and wet. Meredith’s shuddering, breathing starting to go choppy, but Ben knows her, knows she needs more than a couple licks through her knickers.

“Harry,” he says, scraping his chair closer. His dick’s throbbing pleasantly in his shorts. It’s a heady feeling, when they do this. “Do it properly now. No fucking around.”

Harry looks back at him, his back hunched. His eyes are bright.

Ben nods at him. “Go on.”

Harry nods back, reaches up with big hands to drag Meri’s knickers down her thighs. Meredith reaches out, strokes her fingers through Harry’s damp hair.

“Good boy,” she murmurs, as he buries his face between her legs. “ _Fuck_ , that’s good.”

Ben swallows again, grabs for his drink to wet his throat. He can hear Harry’s mouth working, wet and shameless. Meredith arches her back, lets out a steady slow breath, legs splayed.

Her head tips back, to the side, and her eyes flutter open, land on Ben’s.

_Love you_ , she mouths, and then her eyes fall shut again as Harry does something with his tongue that makes her shudder.

She’s come twice and has a leg slung up over Harry’s shoulder by the time Ben says, “Alright, H, my turn.”

“Spoilsport,” Meri says, weak as a kitten, all worn out. She flops her head back, grins at the sky.

Ben appreciates his wife getting off, he does, but his dick’s hard and all he wants is Harry’s mouth. Harry turns, eyes glazed, licking his swollen-red mouth. His cock’s proper hard now, thick and flushed.

Ben pats his thigh, grins, and Harry makes his way over gamely, looking hungry. Bit of a glutton for punishment, is Harry. He doesn’t mind waiting.

He runs his hands up Ben’s thighs, against the grain of hair, and Ben huffs a hard breath. Harry tilts his head up, looks at him hopefully, and Ben leans down to kiss that soft mouth.

Harry tastes like Ben’s wife. There’s salt at the corner of his mouth. Ben licks it up, sucks Harry’s tongue, until Harry’s whining, hands clenching on Ben’s thighs. Fuck, he’s lovely. Ben fucking loves this.

“Alright,” he says, breathless, putting a hand in Harry’s hair. Meredith is watching lazily, lips parted, legs still splayed. “Alright. Put that mouth to use, H.”

Harry does.

Ben forgot how good he was at sucking dick. All of Harry’s tricks, his pretty mouth, his broad hot tongue. He has Ben close to coming, hips jerking, before Ben remembers himself and pulls Harry off by the hair. It’s hard enough that Harry lets out a happy whine, rolling his head back and forth to feel the tug on his scalp.

“Can get you off,” he says, voice hoarse, groaning when Ben pulls his hair again. “Mmgh, Ben, please. Lemme get you off.”

Ben’s close to it, close to shoving Harry’s lovely mouth back down onto his cock again. He’s breathing hard. He looks up at Meri.

Meri nods, biting her lip.

“Your lucky day,” Ben murmurs, pushing Harry’s head back down. Harry opens up sweetly around the length of his dick, plush lips parting, throat hot and tight. His hair’s like damp silk between Ben’s fingers, too easy to pull. Everything about him’s too easy.

Ben has to bite on his wrist to keep from getting loud as he comes. Their place is private, big backyard, but still. Wouldn’t do to have some old rich geezer call the police and find Harry Styles on his knees with a dick down his throat.

Harry comes up for air with a smear of come drying on the side of his mouth, lips shiny-wet. From the glazed look on his face, the hand sneaking between his legs to rub his hard cock, he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Ben,” he mumbles. “Ben, fuck-”

“Inside now, love. We’ll take care of you.”

“Ben,” Harry says, almost a moan.

“Inside,” Meri says, voice sharp. Ben gets a tingle down his spine. He likes when Meri joins in, tells Harry how she wants him. Harry likes it too. Likes both of them being - stern. “Not done with you yet, darling. Hands off yourself.”

Harry takes his hand away, and Meri leads him inside by the hand.

Ben looks at the pool for a minute, gleaming blue, before he follows them, stepping carefully around their clothes, sliding the door gently shut behind them.

They’ve already started when he gets in. Harry’s flat on his back and Meri’s rummaging in their case for a condom.

Harry looks over at him, flopping a hand out onto the plush king mattress.

“Ben,” he says, dazed. He grins sheepishly, dimple popping out. “Can I, um.”

“Can you what? Fuck my wife?”

Harry’s eyes squeeze shut for a minute. Ben watches him swallow deeply.

“Was that you were asking?” Ben murmurs, sitting on the edge of the bed, putting a hand on the heaving flat of Harry’s belly. Harry’s cock twitches. “If you could fuck my wife while I watch?”

“Ben,” Harry moans.

“What if I say no?” Ben breathes, tracing his fingers down around the length of Harry’s fat prick, pressed leaking against his belly. “What if I said you didn’t get to come tonight, what would you do?”

Harry looks at him, wild-eyed. He’s trembling.

“And in the morning,” Ben murmurs. “You had to use your mouth on us again til we both get off. Stay on your knees.”

Harry moans. His face is red and hot.

“Your poor prick,” Ben says, very soft. He rolls his palm against the sticky head of it, and Harry’s leg jerks out on the bed. He makes a strangled sound. “Having to wait and wait. You like it that way, though, don’t you?”

Harry nods frantically.

“Yeah, you do. You love to wait. Do you love to make me come?”

Another nod.

“You love to make her come?”

“Yeah,” Harry moans. “Yeah.”

Ben’s mouth is watering at the sight of him, and then Meri’s climbing onto the bed.

“Put the condom on him, babe?” she asks, tossing it, before she knees her way up Harry’s torso and sits on his face.

Harry makes a muffled groan against her, and then sets to work.

Ben rolls the condom down Harry’s cock, holds his hips down when Harry tries to thrust up against his hand.

“No, darling,” he says, soft. He strokes over Harry’s laurels, the cut of muscle in his hips. His thighs. Harry’s shaking. “You wait.”

He’s not sure if Harry can hear him with Meri’s thighs around his ears, but Harry shudders hard.

“He’s ready, Mer,” Ben says, and Meri grinds down one last time, letting out a huff of breath, before she pulls off and sits down on Harry’s cock.

Harry groans low, like it’s been punched out of him. He’s perfectly still for a moment, quivering.

“Move your hips, love,” Meri murmurs, before she starts to roll her own. Harry slides his palms around Meri’s waist and thrusts up, a nice solid slide of his dick, and Ben grits out a breath, watching them. His cock’s already starting to stir at the sight. It’s sick, he knows - watching someone else screw his wife. It’s not _someone else_ , though. It’s Harry. Harry and his eager face and his fat excitable prick. Ben’s not sure why he likes it so much, but good God, he does.

Meri comes again before Harry gets off for the first time, rubbing at her clit while Ben kisses her breathless, loving the way she whimpers against his mouth. She pulls off right away, leaves Harry shaking and wide-eyed, almost scared, like he never would’ve started if he’d known they were going to drag it out this way. In over his head.

“P-please-”

“You’ve been good,” Ben reassures him, craning over him on the bed, tugging the condom off and getting a hand on his cock. Harry squirms helplessly. “You’ve been lovely, H, haven’t you. Such a good boy.”

“The best,” Meri murmurs, sprawled out next to them, fucked out. “You felt so bloody good, Harry.”

“Your pretty mouth,” Ben murmurs, wanking him harder, tighter. Harry’s choking on his breath, hands fisted in the sheets. “Opened up so nice for my cock, didn’t you darling-”

“ _Ben_ ,” Harry gasps.

“Come on, now.” Ben’s breath is coming faster. Harry’s a mess by now, leaking so much Ben’s hand is slick from it. “Come on.”

Harry throws his head back, eyes slamming shut.

“Please-” he says, oddly loud and clear, before he comes all over Ben’s hand and his belly, striping his chest with white. Ben keeps stroking him, watching him. A fucking privilege, it is, to watch Harry Styles come. Even Meri’s woken up from her stupor, head propped on one hand, breathing deep while she watches Harry spill.

Harry’s eyes come open eventually, blinking, clear clear green, a perfect contrast against his tanned skin, pink cheeks, red lips. Ben fights the urge to fetch his camera for a photo.

“There you are,” he says instead, low and soft. Harry blinks again, and his mouth curves up.

He hums slowly - _mmmmm_ , all self-satisfied, one arm stretching out - and turns his head to look at Meredith. She’s half asleep but she smiles, reaches out to stroke a strand of hair off his face.

Ben’s unaccountably fond, watching them.

“Ben,” Meredith says slowly, looking up at him. “Fetch us a glass of water?”

“Yeah, Ben,” Harry mumbles. His dimple pops out again. “Make yourself useful.”

“Little shit,” Ben mutters, laughing. He stands up, fumbles for a clean pair of pants in his case before he pads into the kitchen.

When he comes back, Meredith is asleep, and Harry’s sat up in bed, long legs pretzeled, scrolling through his phone. He looks up when Ben eases the bedroom door shut.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Ben says. “Water.”

Harry gulps it gratefully. Ben runs a hand over his hair as he drinks, soft and still damp in places, dry and chlorine-coarse in others.

He hands the glass back. Ben sets it on the bedside table.

“Forgot a toothbrush,” Harry says, hiding a yawn behind his hand. “Can I nick yours?”

Ben breathes out a laugh. “How old are you again?”

Harry just takes another gulp of water, before he unfolds himself from the bed, joints creaking. Walks naked and barefoot into the toilet.

Ben follows him, takes the toothbrush once Harry’s done, rinses it out and sticks it in his own mouth to brush. Harry ties his hair back in a bun, splashes water over his face, thumbs over a spot on his chin. Stares at his own reflection until Ben catches his eye in the mirror and Harry smiles wanly.

“You alright?” Ben says, around a mouthful of toothpaste.

Harry nods, and Ben nudges him aside, spits into the sink. He brings a handful of water to his mouth to rinse, straightens up.

Harry’s leaning against the counter, fidgeting with the bracelet on one wrist.

“How’re you doing, H?” Ben asks, very quietly.

Harry shrugs.

“Do you miss it?” he says.

“Miss…”

“Tour. Us. Like, all of it.”

Ben sighs. “Course I do. Sometimes.”

Harry nods, tugs the elastic out of his hair, shakes it out. He heaves a deep breath.

“I’ll be alright, won’t I?” he asks. “After it’s over.”

Ben puts an arm around his shoulders. “Course you will. You’ll be fantastic.”

“Scared,” Harry whispers, voice dried up to a trickle.

“Oh god, H. Don’t be scared. You’ll be so brilliant.”

Harry nods. Forces a watery smile in the mirror, turns to Ben and kisses his mouth.

“You’ll let me come live with you if I lose all my money and no one cares about me anymore,” he says, warm and close. “Won’t you?”

Ben laughs. “Give you Colin’s bed.”

“Heyyy,” Harry says, laughing now, looking less - lost. “I’ll pay rent in oral. I deserve a place in your bed.”

“Certainly deserve that tonight, love.” Ben pats his back. “Speaking of. You need to sleep.”

Harry nods slowly.

“Bed, now. Put some pants on.”

Harry whines, and Ben shoves him gently out of the toilet by the small of his back. “Pants on, H. Sick of waking up with your prick against my arse.”

Harry takes a pair out of Ben’s case. They’re too big, slipping down his hips, but they’ll do.

Ben turns the light off when Harry’s tucked into bed, crawls in after him.

There they all are, then. His two favorite people in the entire world. Ben buries his face in a pillow, lets out a long slow breath.

“Ben?” he hears, and he lifts his head. Harry’s peering at him in the darkness, eyes bright.

“Yeah?”

Harry nuzzles in closer to him. Presses his lips to the side of Ben’s mouth.

“Thanks,” he mumbles. “For tonight.”

Ben rubs a thumb over Harry’s eyebrow, then the soft curve of his bottom lip. “Go to sleep.”

Harry nods - Ben can’t see it but he can feel it - and rolls over onto his back. 

Ben does the same, matches up his breathing with Harry, slow and steady. He’s not sure who falls asleep first. 


	2. los angeles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> written june 2016

His phone starts ringing at half-two. Ben sits up, groaning, and Meri kicks him from the other side of the bed.

“Turnit _off_ ,” she mumbles, as Ben grabs for it. It’s an unknown number.

“Hello?” he mutters, swinging his legs over the bed.

“Ben?”

“Yeah, who’s it?” Ben scrubs at his eyes with his palm.

“It’s Harry.” The voice is low and familiar. “It’s me, I- sorry to ring so late-“

“Harry?” Ben sits up, feet hitting the floor. “Everything alright?”

He can hear Meri sitting up behind him.

“It’s fine,” Harry says, but he doesn’t sound convinced. “I’m fine. I just- I’m- I’m outside your house, actually. But I forgot the gate code, and I- I was wondering if I, like. If I could maybe stay the night. I’m sorry it’s so late.”

“What’s wrong?” Meredith hisses. Ben waves her off and she puts a hand on his thigh.

“Course you can, Haz,” he says. “It’s 3483. I’ll meet you at the door.”

“Thanks,” Harry mumbles, and the phone goes dead.

Ben forces himself upright.

“Is he alright?”

“He says so. He’s here. I dunno.” He yawns into the crook of his elbow.

“Thought he was in France.”

“Me too.”

Meri hums, worried, and follows him out to the front door.

Harry’s standing there, silhouetted in the golden light of the lamps in their garden. There’s a bag slung over one shoulder, and his _hair_ \- Ben forgot he cut it all off. He turns to them and Ben tries not to wince. Harry looks - tired. That’s the nicest way to put it.

“Oh, love,” Meri says, hushed. “What’s wrong?”

Harry blinks a few times, looking dazed. “Nothing. Nothing’s- I’m sorry, I woke you up-“

“Come in here, Haz,” Ben murmurs, pulling at his arm. “It’s fine. C’mere.”

Harry makes a choked little sound in his throat and throws his arms around Ben’s shoulders. He smells a bit like an airplane, mixed with sweat, but Ben hugs him back fiercely, giving Meri a look over his shoulder. She steps behind them, pulls Harry into an embrace as he lets go of Ben, rubbing his broad back.

“Sorry,” Harry says, strangled, into Meri’s hair. “I know it’s late.”

“It’s alright, love. Let’s have a brew, alright? You want a brew?”

Harry nods, jaw clenched, and Ben locks the door behind them.

They sit in the kitchen, Harry dropping his bag with a thump while Meri puts the kettle on.

Ben watches as Harry checks his phone and puts it face-down on the table.

“So,” Ben says. “Going to tell us what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Harry says quietly, and he chokes a humorless laugh when Ben says, “Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. Nothing’s wrong. I just- I got in last night, I’ve got a break from shooting. And I was at home and I just, I couldn’t sleep.”

He shrugs.

“So you drove all the way across town instead of, like, having a cup of herbal tea and taking a Xanax,” Meri says, setting a steaming mug in front of Harry on the table. She hands one over to Ben and Ben murmurs a thank-you.

“I guess,” Harry says listlessly. “Well, I tried the tea, and I meditated a bit, but. Still couldn’t sleep.” He swallows. “God. I’m sorry. I had the spare key still and I thought I’d be able to remember the gate code, but-“

“So you were just going to let yourself in, hm?”

Harry snorts a bit, and sips his tea. “Sounds a bit stupid now.”

“Glad you called, I would’ve thought you were a burglar and given you a beating,” Ben says.

Both Meri and Harry look at him doubtfully.

“What?”

“You can barely kill spiders, babe,” Meri says, huffing a laugh.

“I’m well hard!”

Harry’s laughing. Already the pinched look on his face is slipping away.

“D’you want to try and sleep now, darling?” Meri says, rubbing Harry’s shoulder with one hand.

“Yeah, please.” Harry sniffs and rubs his nose. “It’s just- it’s just been a long couple weeks, I think.”

“Yeah?”

Harry gives Ben the weakest smile Ben’s ever seen. “Yeah.”

—

Ben’s sleepily scrolling through his schedule for the next day, Meri passed out next to him, when the toilet flushes and Harry wanders into the room, long legs bare.

“Hair’s gonna take a bit of getting used to,” Ben says, holding the duvet up.

“Yeah, took me ages. Still feels weird.” Harry pulls the covers up and yawns into his balled fist.

“You look good, though.” Ben pats his side, gives him a squeeze. Harry feels like solid muscle but he squirms at Ben’s touch, ticklish, and Ben feels a sudden wave of fondness go over him. 

“Missed you,” he says gruffly, and Harry digs his head into his pillow, not taking his eyes off Ben’s.

“Missed you too,” he says. Something catches audibly in his throat on the last word. Ben strokes his cheek, cos he can, and it’s been a long time.

“You are alright, aren’t you?”

Harry’s eyes close.

“I’m fine,” he says.

“Gonna tell us what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on.” Harry laughs again, choked. “That’s the bloody problem.”

Ben hums. “How d’you mean?”

“I’m just-“ Harry sucks in a breath. “I’m not - good.”

“Good?”

“At acting.” Harry looks away, gnawing at his bottom lip. “I’m not good. They’re all bloody better than me, and - and it’s, it’s hard. It’s hard.”

“Oh, Haz.”

“And I’m- I’m the only one who’s got people sneaking on set every day trying to take photos and get autographs and that. It’s bloody embarrassing.”

He sounds genuinely disturbed by it, and Ben tries not to seem surprised. It’s just - not like him. Harry quite loves his fans, and all the attention. He always has. Sure, he’s had rough days, but not like this.

“They don’t take me seriously,” Harry mumbles.

“Since when do you care about that, darling?”

“Since- since now, I dunno.” Harry sounds so tired, petulant like a child. Ben strokes his hair gently.

“I’m sure you’re brilliant. They wouldn’t have hired you if you weren’t-“

“But it’s like,” Harry says, cutting him off. “It’s like, the auditions were easier, and now it’s- like- it’s _hard_.”

Ben laughs helplessly. “Haz.”

“I know it’s stupid,” Harry says wearily.  

“It’s not stupid, it’s just - everything’s hard. Everything worth doing is hard as hell, that’s life.”

Harry just looks at him, steady and unconvinced. Ben sighs.

“Be a bit unfair, wouldn’t it, Haz, if you were automatically as good at acting as you are at singing. It takes work.”

Harry bites his lip again, hard. “What if I’m shit no matter how hard I work?”

“Christ, did something happen? I mean - what’s got into your head? I’m sure you’re doing fine, Harry.”

“Nothing happened,” Harry says dully. “Just- it’s just - it’s been weeks. They had to reshoot half my scenes.”

“Why?”

“Cos I’m shit.”

“Harry-“

“Cos the _emotion wasn’t there_.” Harry says it so sourly Ben knows it’s a direct quote.

“So- so they had to reshoot. Everyone needs reshoots sometimes, Haz. If anyone knows that it’s me. It’s not a big deal.”

“No one else had to.” Harry grits his teeth and rolls onto his back. “Fuck, it doesn’t matter. I’m just tired.”

Ben follows suit, staring up at the ceiling.

“Darling,” he says. “If Chris Nolan wanted you off the bloody film, he’d kick you off the bloody film. He doesn’t keep people out of the goodness of his heart. He knows you’re talented. You might just take a bit more training than the others.”

Harry just sniffles.

“Go to sleep,” Ben says, exhausted all of a sudden. “Promise it’ll be alright.”

Harry turns away from him, hugging a pillow to his chest, and Ben sighs and shuts his eyes.

—

When his alarm goes off Harry’s deep asleep, drooling onto a pillow with one arm dangling off the bed. Ben kisses his temple, and Meri’s forehead, and forces himself out of bed to start the day.

He’s half-dead all morning, which is maybe why he asks for a smoothie when an assistant comes to take their lunch order. Harry would be proud.

“A Power-C for you, Mr. Winston,” the assistant says twenty minutes later, handing the smoothie over. Ben takes a grateful sip. Ahh, almost like real food. “And a wheatgrass shot for you, Mr. Corden.”

“Ahh, disgusting, thanks, Lauren,” James says happily, taking the cup and knocking it back in one go. He winces. “Getting me through a Monday.”

“That’s Harry’s favorite,” Ben says absently, crossing something off that day’s script. Harry went through this whole wheatgrass phase, bought his own plant and cut it himself and everything. He always said it was better homemade, which Ben really, really doubted.

“Healthy Harold. He’s in France, isn’t he?”

“Actually,” Ben says, looking up. “He’s back in town. Got in last night.”

James arches an eyebrow at him. “For how long?”

“Not sure.”

“Did he ring you? Already? I’m insulted, I haven’t heard anything.”

“Came over actually.” Ben looks up, and grins.

James shakes his head, waving a finger at him. “ _Ben_ jamin Wlnston, you sly dog-“

“Shut it-”

“Less than a day back in town and he’s already your booty call?“

“I regret _ever_ telling you anything,” Ben says, trying not to laugh. “I really do.”

“Well, I regret not getting in on Harold’s apparent kink for middle-aged married couples. I’ve known him just as long as you have, Julia and I should be the ones getting booty-called.” 

“Middle-aged?” Ben says, incredulously. “Speak for yourself, I’m three whole years younger than you, Corden.”

“Oh, so age difference matters now, does it? Someone should tell Harry.”

Ben throws a pencil at him, and James cackles.

—

The house is quiet when he gets home at half-five, Meri nowhere to be found and Harry still fast asleep in the bedroom. Ben huffs a laugh, looking down at him. If he hasn’t woken up the whole day, that’ll be about 14 hours of sleep and counting. Lazy popstar.

Ben unbuttons his shirt and unzips his jeans, toeing off his shoes at the same time. He strips down to undershirt and pants and quietly lifts the sheet Harry’s under, snorting when he sees Harry’s got nothing on. Did he undress in his sleep?

Harry mumbles when Ben fits himself behind him, nuzzling the back of Harry’s neck. He smells of laundry soap and sleep when Ben presses a kiss just below his ear, grinning against the skin. How lovely to have Harry back in their bed.

“Ben?” Harry says, sleep-thick.

“Yeah, love.” Ben strokes his hand down Harry’s warm side. “Where’s my wife?”

“Mm. Yoga. I think.” Harry yawns, jaw creaking. “What time’s it?”

“Nearly six, I reckon.”

Harry hums. “Tired.”

“I see that,” Ben says, amused.

“Work was-“ he breaks off to yawn. “Work was good?”

“It was fine. Was knackered all day, but it’s alright.”

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, tucking Ben’s arm around his waist. “Kip with me?”

“That’s the plan.” Ben kisses him again, on the back of his shoulder this time. “Order in dinner later?”

“Mm, yeah.”

“Alright. G’night then.”

“Good night, Ben,” Harry says, patting his wrist, and Ben falls asleep with his mouth to Harry’s neck.

—

He wakes up to the front door closing. It takes him a minute to get his bearings, because Harry’s somehow turned them around in sleep so Ben’s the little spoon and Harry’s breathing hot on his neck.

Harry shifts against him, sighing, and Ben tenses up when he feels Harry’s hard cock against his back.

“Haz,” he says patiently, and Harry murmurs, still half-asleep. “What have I said about waking up with your dick against my arse?”

“Mm,” Harry mumbles, rolling his hips forward, lazy and slow. “Sorry.”

“You don’t feel sorry.”

Harry laughs muzzily against his ear, breath hot. “S’your fault. I was dreaming about you.”

“Oh, don’t try and use a line on me, I’m not some Kardashian you’re trying to shag on a boat.“

“Heyyy.” He presses his cock to Ben’s back like it’s punishment, and the bedroom door swings open.

“Don’t tell me you got started without me,” Meri says, looking half-amused, half-suspicious as she wipes sweat off her forehead, tossing her gym bag onto a chair. “God, leave you two alone for a couple hours-“

“Hiya, Meri!” Harry sings, pushing himself up on his elbow, and Ben chokes a laugh at the burst of energy. Guess that’s what comes of sleeping the whole day. “How was yoga?”

“Great, actually, you should’ve come along.” She peels off her top, and then her leggings, and Harry’s hand sneaks around Ben’s waist, rubbing at his dick in his briefs as he watches Ben watch her. Cheeky, the both of them.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she says, tugging her bra off and shaking her hair out of its ponytail. “Harry, hands off, I want you both to wait.”

“Mer,” Ben says unhappily, as Harry obediently stops groping him.

“ _Wait_ ,” she repeats, before she stalks into the bathroom. Ben hears the shower turn on a moment later.

Harry finally peels himself off Ben’s backside, flopping onto the bed with a sigh. Ben turns over to look at him. Meri never said he couldn’t look.

It’s a nice view. Harry pale and naked, one muscled arm tucked behind his head and his thick cock hard against his belly like a centerpiece, framed by black ink.

Harry notices him looking and stretches out shamelessly, reaches down to roll his hand against his prick. He’s gotten complacent, then, if he thinks he can touch himself without asking. Ben catches his wrist and Harry’s eyes go dark.

“Did you not hear her, darling?” Ben says quietly, holding Harry’s wrist to the bed. “What’d she tell you to do?”

Harry swallows, licks his mouth. “She said-“

“What?” Ben pushes harder at his wrist.

“Wait,” Harry says, breathless. “She said to wait.”

“That’s right. And what’d you do?”

Harry licks his lips again. Ben can feel the pulse under his skin, quickening. “I didn’t wait.”

“You touched yourself.”

“Y-yeah.” Harry swallows.

“D’you think I should tell her? That you didn’t listen? That you grabbed your dick as soon as she left?”

Harry’s staring at him.

“What d’you think she’ll want to do,” Ben says softly, running his palm down the soft inside of Harry’s arm. Harry’s quivering. “Think she’ll want to punish you?”

Harry shifts on the bed, stays silent.

“Think you deserve that, darling?”

“Ben,” he says, no air behind it.

“Tell me.”

“I deserve it,” Harry says, gravelly, starting to breathe hard. “She can- she can do it.”

“She can punish you?”

“Yeah, fuck,” Harry breathes. His cock’s harder than ever though he hasn’t tried to touch it again. Ben wants to touch it, wants to thumb at the head until he leaks, but Harry’s not the only one who’s supposed to wait.

“You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“ _Ben_.” It sounds like a moan.  

Ben laughs and rubs his palm over Harry’s stomach, traces a line around the weight of his prick, not close enough for any real satisfaction. They both hear the shower turn off, and Ben takes his hand away.

The door swings open, steam spilling out. Meri’s naked, rubbing at her stomach with a towel and watching them, eagle-eyed.

“Waiting for me?” she says.

“Yeah,” Ben says, something rising in his throat like a laugh. He doesn’t actually feel like punishing Harry - they’re a bit more vanilla than they pretend, really - but it’s fun to see him sweat.

She eyes them suspiciously. “Harry?”

“Yeah,” Harry says unsteadily. “Can I - can I touch him now?”

“Go on.” She scrubs a towel over her hair, skin glistening, just a step out of reach at the foot of the bed. Ben can’t stop staring. “Looks like he’s a bit behind, why don’t you help catch him up?”

It takes Ben a second to realize what she’s getting at, and then Harry tugs at Ben’s shirt and says shyly, “Like-“

“Yeah, darling, why don’t you. Nice and slow.”

Ben rolls his eyes, but he lets Harry pull the shirt off his shoulders, running his big hands down Ben’s chest. 

“Pants too,” Meredith says, sounding like she’s smiling.

Harry scoots down the bed, slides Ben’s briefs off with both hands. Ben squirms for a second and then settles against the headboard, watching as Harry tosses the briefs onto the floor.

“Harry,” Meri says quietly. “I want to watch you use your mouth on him.”

Harry’s head tips up til he catches eyes with Ben. His cheeks are flushed, soft mouth open and eyes clear green, and Ben gets a strange clench of nostalgia for the hair that used to fall around his face, thick and soft in Ben’s hand when he took a handful and pulled. Harry loved having his hair pulled.

“Harry, go on,” Meri repeats, a little sharper, and Harry nods and lowers his head.

Christ, his mouth. Ben tips his head back, breathing out shakily, eyes closing.  

He’s in complete bliss until Harry whimpers around his dick and pulls back a little, breathing hot and wet against him. Ben forces his eyes open.

“Haz,” he says plaintively, and Harry looks at him with glazed eyes, and - oh. Meri’s behind him, one hand on his back and the other between his legs. Ben can see a half-empty bottle of lube on its side on the bed. 

“Mer,” Ben says, trying not to whine. “What’re you up to? We’re a bit busy up here-”

“Oh, not much,” Meri says cheerily. “I’d like to watch you fuck him, and I thought I’d open him up a bit first.” 

She grins at him, and Ben grins back, slowly. It’s been ages since they did that, but he can’t say he’s opposed.

“Jesus, _fuck_ ,” Harry mutters, when Meri goes back to whatever she was doing with her fingers. He tips his head against Ben’s thigh, exhaling, mouth inches from Ben’s cock, but Ben can tell his mind’s somewhere else. “Jesus.”

“Been a while, sweetheart?” Meri’s voice is soft but she doesn’t stop working her hand. Ben can hear the sounds of it, wet and dirty.

“Yeah,” Harry admits shakily. “Oh- _Christ,_ right there.” 

Ben gives him a minute to get used to it, and then he gently guides Harry’s open mouth back down to his cock. Harry goes easily, starts to suck again like a reflex, and Ben’s eyelids flutter.

Harry’s moans trail off after a while, and he sucks in earnest, head bobbing up and down. Ben’s got a hand fisted in the sheets and another cupping the back of Harry’s head when he hears Meri say, “Babe.”

“Gimme a minute,” Ben mumbles, hips twitching up into the velvet heat of Harry’s mouth. Harry gags a little and keeps going. “Fuck.”

“Ben.” Her voice is sharp.

He forces his eyes open, and Harry helpfully slides off his prick, panting hard.

“He needs more,” Meri murmurs, running her palms up the round slope of Harry’s arse. “Swap me?”

Ben groans pitifully. He’s so bloody close.

Meri narrows her eyes at him. “Or I could grab a toy, if you’d rather-“

“Alright, alright, I’m coming. Got enough dicks in the room already, don’t need a fake one.”

Meri laughs and leans down to kiss the small of Harry’s back before she clambers up onto the bed where Ben was, settling herself with her legs spread, head propped up so she can see as Harry bites his lip and crawls between her thighs.

“Go on then,” she says, smiling at him. “Want you to eat me out while he fucks you, alright?”

Harry nods, breathing hard, and Meri looks up at Ben, arching an eyebrow.

“Try and distract him,” she says.

Ben snorts and reaches for the lube, sliding his free hand down the hot skin behind Harry’s balls, pressing til Harry lets out a grunt of pleasure and splays his legs apart. Ben keeps a hand right there, massaging his perineum as he fumbles for the condoms. “I’ll do my best.”

When he pushes inside Harry whimpers and grabs Meri’s thigh for leverage, fingers digging in so hard her tan skin goes white.

“Alright?” Ben asks, strained from holding back. Harry’s thighs are shaking and he’s so fucking tight. Ben wonders how long it’s been. He knows Harry hasn’t been with Nick anytime lately, but there have been others in the past. Ben doesn’t ask for details. 

“Yeah,” Harry chokes. “Yeah, god, move.”

Ben grins despite himself and hitches Harry’s hips up til he can get deep. Harry’s putty in his hands, trembling, and Ben forgets until he’s set up a proper rhythm, slick and slow, that Harry was supposed to be doing something else.

From the slack look on Meri’s face and the hand she’s got between her legs as she watches them, she’s forgotten as well. God, Ben really has to do all the work, doesn’t he.

“Haz,” he says breathlessly, pinching the spare inch of flesh on Harry’s hip that never goes away no matter how much he works out. “Eat my wife’s cunt, please. She’s waiting.” 

Harry makes a desperate sound and crawls forward. Ben’s next thrust rocks Harry’s face into Meredith’s cunt and they all groan. _There_ it is, fuck. Ben tries another push like that and Harry braces himself against it, holding tight to the bed and doing something with his mouth that makes Meri squeak.

“Good,” she gasps, digging her fingers in Harry’s hair. “You just- keep on with that.”

“And you-“ she looks up at Ben just as Ben slides inside, huffing a breath. He doesn’t fuck men other than Harry, and he forgot how it felt, the hot grip of it. “Fuck him til he comes.”

Harry makes an agreeing sound, muffled and desperate.

“And if you touch your cock, love, you won’t come at all,” she says, a vicious look on her face. “Understand?”

She strokes his cheek when he nods, and pushes his head down again.

Ben watches Harry lick into her, spreading her lips with his fingers and kissing her clit til she’s beating her fist on the bed. Ben rocks into him slowly, holding Harry steady so he’ll be able to focus, to do it right. It’s hard to hold back, but he likes when Meri comes first.

It doesn’t take long, anyway. Harry’s tongue is wicked and there’s nothing he does better than eat pussy. Ben watches Meri as she tips over the edge, her open mouth and her hands clenching in the sheets. Sometimes he thinks he should be jealous, that Harry can make her come that hard. That anyone else other than him can make her come that hard.

But he’s not. It’s just Harry, after all. Their Harry. Harry who’s laying a kiss against the inside of Meri’s thigh and then backing himself up onto hands and knees, the change in angle making them both hiss.

“C’mon,” Harry mumbles, pushing against him, hungry for it. “Do it.”

Ben huffs, taking Harry’s hips in his hands and trying out a thrust that makes Harry’s knees slide in the sheets. “Thought I _was_ doing it.”

“Properly, babe,” Meri says, stretching one arm out on the bed and blinking, heavy-lidded and smug. “Harder. Fuck the come out of him.” 

“God, please,” Harry chokes. Ben smacks his arse for good measure, and then he does it properly, fucks Harry just like he wants, because in the end he’s a complete pushover for the both of them. 

—

“Christ,” Harry exhales after they finish. He’s grinning into the mattress, shagged-out and boneless. There’s sweat beaded on his back and Ben swipes it off with his palm, runs his hand down to Harry’s bare arse and squeezes. Harry shivers happily.

“You alive?”

“Barely.” He laughs, muffled. “Fuck, I’m starving.”

Meri snorts. “Takeaway?”

“Mm, yes please.” Harry turns his head til Ben can see the smile curving his mouth. “Could go for a curry.”

“Curry it is then,” Ben says, feeling indulgent. He pats Harry’s bum again, dips a finger between his cheeks where he’s still slick, skin hot. Harry squirms lazily. “I’ll call.”

Harry reaches out and catches his hand, gripping tight for a minute before he lets go. “Thanks.”

Ben knows he doesn’t just mean the takeaway, but he doesn’t push it. He strokes Harry’s hairy calf, back and forth, and stands up.  

They eat half-naked around the kitchen counter, too hungry to set out plates or sit down at the table. Harry’s ravenous cos he’s been off carbs, apparently, and he practically eats his weight in chicken biryani.

“Gonna take a swim,” Harry says when he’s satisfied, tearing off a last piece of naan and putting it in his mouth, tongue-first.

“Alright, love.”

“D’you want the pool lights on, Haz? Or the jets in the hot tub?”

“No, it’s alright.” Harry kisses Meri’s cheek, and then Ben’s, holding Ben’s face in one hand to bring him closer. He smells like mango chutney and the tangy lime of the drinks he mixed while they were waiting for dinner. “Join me if you like.”

Meredith waves him off, and Ben watches as he pauses by the sliding glass door and wriggles out of his pants. Ben huffs a laugh.

“Did he just get naked?” Meredith says, craning to look.

“Take a guess.”

They laugh at each other, quietly, and Ben’s so in love with her suddenly that he has to look away. That’s always the odd thing about Harry showing up, sleeping in their bed, fucking the both of them. Nothing makes him love his wife more than sharing her with Harry. Or sharing Harry with her. Whichever.

“He gonna be alright?” Meredith says under her breath. “We didn’t get a chance to talk today.”

“He’ll be fine.” Ben steals the rest of Harry’s drink and takes a gulp. Who cares if it’s a work night. “It’s the film. Apparently he was asked to do a few reshoots.”

Meredith hums, noncommittal.

“The director said something not so nice about his acting and Harry’s a bit crushed. I talked him down, but. I dunno.”

“I love him,” Meri says thoughtfully. “But it might be good for him to, you know. Have to work at it a bit. It’ll add to his craft, right?”

“I told him that, but I don’t think he wanted to hear it.”

“Well, he wouldn’t, would he. You know how he is.”

Ben tips his glass in acknowledgement, and she sighs, combing through her hair with her fingers.

“He’ll figure it out,” Ben says decisively, draining the glass.

Meri nods slowly.

“Glad he came by,” she says, soft, and then she grins at him wickedly. “You up for a swim, Mr. Winston?”

Ben groans. “I’m _knackered_. And I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“Ohh, c’mon.” She pushes her shirt off one tanned shoulder. “Don’t be a boring old man.”

“Just finished a threesome with a fucking twenty-two year old and you’re calling me boring?”

“Yeah.” She arches an eyebrow. “I am.”

Ben rolls his eyes and wipes his hands on a dish towel. “Let’s do it, then. Old lady.”

“First in the pool gets morning head,” Meri says, giggling as she reaches down to pull her shirt off.

“From each other or from Harry?”

Meri considers it and shrugs. “Both. Team effort.”

Ben’s vision whites out a bit at the thought of Meri and Harry both, licking at his cock, maybe kissing around it, wet and messy and gorgeous-

Meredith opens the screen door, laughing like mad, already half-naked and kicking off her knickers. Ben curses to himself, whipping his shirt off, and follows her.

—

They bring Harry off once more in the pool, hushed and dark, Ben holding his face and kissing his lush open mouth while Meri strokes his cock, hand splashing softly in the water. Harry shudders when he comes, whining against Ben’s mouth, and Ben kisses him right through it, letting Harry suck desperately at his tongue until he’s finished. He slumps against the edge, opening his eyes, and Meri leans in to kiss him, wet hands on his neck. They trade off and on for a bit, Harry soft and pliant between them, snogging whoever snogs him. He’s easy like that. 

“Love you,” Harry says into the quiet, ragged and low. Meri kisses the side of his mouth and Ben strokes his damp hair. 

“Love you too, darling,” Meri murmurs.

Harry nods, swallowing hard, and tips his head against Ben’s chest.

“You said,” he says. “If I fuck everything up. That I could come back here.”

Ben glances at Meri over his head, and Meri gives him a look.  

“You’re not fucking anything up, love.”

“But I might.” Harry shudders a breath against Ben’s neck and Ben kisses his forehead. “I might fuck it up. They might sack me.”

“You’re not gonna get-“

“Just- tell me I can come back here,” Harry says, fierce.  

Ben sighs.

“Course you can come back here,” Meri says. “You know that, Harry. Whenever you need.”  

“Just try not to ring at two in the morning next time, yeah?” Ben says gently, and Harry huffs a laugh, mouth curving up at the edge. Ben can see a dimple peek out.

Meri reaches out to ruffle Harry’s hair, and then Ben’s, her face warm and tired. “Let’s go to bed, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry yawns. “Bed.” 

“Bed,” Ben echoes, something hot in his chest, and he follows them inside. 


End file.
